


Out of Bounds

by zmethos



Category: Highlander: The Series
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-22
Updated: 2020-05-28
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:13:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24324094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zmethos/pseuds/zmethos
Summary: After killing Kronos, Duncan suffers some confusing and misplaced feelings for Methos.
Relationships: Duncan MacLeod/Methos (Highlander), Kronos (Highlander)/Methos (Highlander)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 47





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published in the fanzine _Revelations 2_ (Ashton Press, 1999)

"Methos, I need to ask you a personal question."

Methos sighed and rested more fully against the counter in Duncan's barge, clutching the beer bottle a little more tightly. Questions that began with such a preface were often best left unasked, or at least unanswered. "MacLeod—" he warned.

"You have the right to remain silent," Duncan assured him, "but... It would be a great help to me if you'd tell me something." At this point the Scot was not looking his friend in the eye, which Methos took as a bad sign.

"What?" Methos asked, his tone as short and sharp as the point he hoped MacLeod would come to.

Duncan sucked in a deep breath, and when the words exited his throat in a tumbled rush: "Have you ever been in love with another man?"

"Run that by me again, MacLeod? Not sure I heard you right."

"Just answer the question."

Methos' frown deepened. "Why should I?"

"What about Kronos?" Duncan asked. "Or Caspian?"

Methos had the feeling of something he'd had control of starting to slip. "What?!"

"Look, I'm just trying to figure this out," said Duncan, now using his diplomatic voice.

Methos stood. "Figure _what_ out? My love life?"

Duncan rounded on him. "You know what we are, the two of us? We're the Four Horsemen. And I need to know exactly what that entails."

"Why should it entail anything?" Methos demanded.

"I don't know, I—" Duncan broke off, appearing honestly confused. Then, in two strides he was in Methos' face and had the ancient Immortal by the hair, yanking backward to expose Methos' neck. The suddenly fierce and completely uncharacteristic gesture seemed to surprise Duncan as much as Methos, for almost as soon as the Scot had grabbed his friend, he let him go. "Methos, I—I'm sorry..."

But Methos was already backing away, headed for the stairs that would take him up to the deck and out of arm's, sword's, and harm's reach. "Never mind it, MacLeod." But his expression said he'd minded it a lot.


	2. Chapter 2

Not more than twenty minutes later, Methos sat at Joe's bar in Paris, appropriately if somewhat pedantically named "Le Blues Bar." The Immortal stared moodily into his glass bottle. He'd hardly touched it, which worried Joe a bit. Something was very wrong, but Methos appeared in no humor to answer questions.

The bar was empty; it was closed between lunch and happy hour for preparation and band rehearsals. Methos' eyes ventured from time to time to the stage where one of the many blues bands was setting up equipment for the evening show. Joe knew Methos didn't have any real interest in the music; he seemed, rather, to be actively avoiding Joe's concerned stare.

"Sorry, Joe," Methos eventually murmured, still without looking at him. "Guess I'm not very good company tonight."

"Are you ever?" But Joe's attempt at levity went unchallenged as Methos' gaze returned to his half-empty bottle, the liquid inside sloshing in his turbulent hand like a captured tempest.

Joe decided it was time to get serious. "Come on," he said, gently but firmly. "What's the trouble?"

As if to answer the question, Methos swiveled toward the doors as one Duncan MacLeod burst in. Joe did not miss the scowl that crossed Methos' lips at the sight of the Highlander. A strange way to greet a friend.

"Methos, you've got to help me figure this out," said Duncan as he strode toward the bar.

The older Immortal stood, poised to run. Or fight if cornered. From behind the bar, Joe waved the band members out of the bar.

"Look, MacLeod," Methos was saying as Joe's attention returned to the conversation, "I can't be your brother or your boyfriend or whatever it is you're asking me to be."

"What?!" said Joe.

The Immortals ignored him.

"That's not what I'm asking at all!" Duncan countered. "I just want to understand these... these feelings. And work out a way to defeat them. It's not like I _want_ to be attracted to you."

"What?!" said Joe again. "Hold it, guys. You wanna tell me what's going on here?"

"Not particularly," replied Methos, his eyes never leaving Duncan and his expression wary.

"We're having some... difficulties is all," Duncan said.

"I can see that," Joe said. "But I can't help you unless you share."

There was a long moment of silence until Duncan finally answered, "It's about the Four Horsemen."

"Yeah, what about them?" asked Joe. "They're dead."

"Not entirely," Duncan said.

"How do you mean?"

Duncan took a deep breath. "I mean that, between Methos and me, we're the Four, and I think I got the nastier end of the deal."

"Caspian and Kronos weren't known for their merit badges," Joe agreed. "But what exactly is the problem?"

"The problem is..." Another deep breath. "The problem is, being around Methos affects me."

"I've got a solution to that," said Methos. "Very simple, in fact. Stay away from me."

"Oh, Methos, come on!" said Joe.

"What?" the old Immortal replied, a little too innocently.

"He needs help," Joe insisted, " _both_ our help."

Duncan took a seat at the bar, his expression thoughtful and troubled. "Is this like the Dark Quickening?"

"No," said Methos. "This is more complex."

"You've seen this before?" Joe asked.

Methos shook his head. "No. But it isn't that difficult to figure out. MacLeod and I are connected in some strange way, and my presence brings Kronos and Caspian to the surface."

"I'm afraid I don't follow here," said Joe.

"My relationship with Kronos was, for lack of a better term, unique," said Methos.

Duncan looked at him. "So you were—"

"It wasn't like that! I can't explain it; you wouldn't understand."

"I understand how he felt about you," Duncan told him.

A hunted look crept into Methos' features.

"He was very possessive, wasn't he?" Duncan asked. "And he believed more than anything in the bond between you."

"He was an apt pupil," Methos admitted.

"You taught him?" Joe asked incredulously.

"Look, I'm not saying I'm proud of what we became or what we did, but yes, he was my student and he meant a lot to me. They all did."

"And it means a lot to me to hear you say that, Brother," said Duncan, whose eyes widened in surprise even as the words escaped him. "What was that?" he the squeaked in an octave higher than his normal voice.

"I don't think I want to know," said Methos, taking a couple step backward.

"Methos," said Joe, "is it possible for a personality taken in a Quickening to take over the Immortal that took the Quickening?"

"Why ask me?" Methos asked. "Why not just check your records?"

"Because asking you is faster and you sometimes more than they do. And I already know what the records say. Nothing."

"Then it seems we have a precedent," said Methos.

"Why don't I believe you?" Duncan asked.

Methos focused on him dispassionately. "You probably have too many reasons not to."

Duncan was on his feet then and headed for Methos, though he stopped short of grabbing him. "I know you too well." He added with a wolfish grin, "All of you."

Methos exchanged a glance with Joe, who'd frozen behind the bar. "I think I'd better go," the Immortal said, stepping wide of Duncan—if Duncan was still in there.

But this time Duncan did grab his arm. "We will be together," he hissed. "If I have to take your head to do it, we will be together. One way or the other."

Methos jerked free. "This will not happen again, Kronos."

"Oh no?" And Duncan had him by the hair again. But this time, he gave Methos a full, hearty kiss on the mouth.

Methos shoved Duncan away, but Duncan only laughed, turned, and went for the door. "One way or the other, Brother!" he called over his shoulder. "You choose!"

"What the hell was that about?" Joe asked after a moment.

"He's right," Methos said, half to himself, his gaze fixed on the door through which Duncan had exited. "He knows me too well." The look of determination, as if Methos had just come to a major decision, did not bode well for Duncan MacLeod.


	3. Chapter 3

"I knew better than to become friends with another Immortal," Methos said, not for the first time. Soon the happy hour crowd would begin wandering into their favorite watering hole, looking to hear some blues and drown their own. Methos had a head start on them, having been drinking steadily in the two hours since Duncan's departure. "It never ends well. What was thinking?"

"Take it easy," said Joe. "I mean, can't you just disappear for a while until it all blows over? You're pretty good at that."

"He knows me too well," Methos said, his lips compressed into a grim line. "What MacLeod doesn't know, Kronos and Caspian do. Put them all together, and I can't risk it."

Joe waited for a group of people to pass the bar on their way to a table before asking, "You're not going to kill him, are you?"

An expression of stony resolve settled over Methos' features. "If I have to."

"Isn't there some way of, I don't know, purging him?" Joe asked desperately. "Like after the Dark Quickening?"

"This isn't only good versus evil. This is a multiple personality, and if the wrong one takes possession..." Methos shook his head.

"There has to be another way, some way to treat it," Joe insisted.

"What? Electric shock therapy? Or how about an exorcism?" He said it a little too loudly, earning curious glances from people seated nearby.

Joe sighed. "I don't know. _Something._ I mean, think about it this way: If you take his head, what would having the Four Horsemen in one body do to you?"

Methos went still, and at first Joe thought Duncan had returned or another Immortal was near. But when nothing happened, he realized Methos was simply thinking over this new challenge.

"I can't run, Joe," Methos finally decided. "And I don't think I can help him, either. In fact, my presence only makes it worse. And yet he won't leave me alone."

"Kronos won't leave you alone," Joe emphasized. "That's it, isn't it? But why?"

Methos shook his head, not to say he didn't know, only to say he'd rather not answer.

"Well, I don't know what to do," Joe said. "You must have a better idea than I do. Come on, where's all that wisdom of the ages?"

"When he was young," Methos began thoughtfully, "he had... Well, today we'd call it 'separation anxiety.' Even when he became Immortal, he..." His voice trailed.

"'There is a friend that sticks closer than a brother,'" quoted Joe.

"Yeah," sighed Methos. He turned to face the stage, where the band was getting started. "In the end it's something MacLeod has to battle within himself. I'll leave him to it unless, of course, he threatens me."

"You think he would?" asked Joe.

"MacLeod? No. But Kronos..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- Proverbs 18:24


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *I continue to refer to Duncan's body as "Duncan" even though Kronos is inhabiting it.

Methos strolled slowly back to the apartment he rented in Paris, his pace due as much to thoughtfulness as caution. But as he went up the steps to his door, he felt the overwhelming presence of another Immortal, stronger than typical; could it be that both Duncan's and Kronos' Quickenings were present?

After a moment of hesitation, Methos opted to enter the apartment just the same. He found Duncan on the sofa with a glass of wine in hand, grinning like a cat in the cream. Forcing himself to remain calm and nonchalant, Methos went to the refrigerator for a beer. "Hello, MacLeod."

Duncan laughed. "Wrong! Two more guesses."

Methos sighed. "That leaves Kronos or Satan."

Duncan rose. "One and the same, Brother! You should know that!"

"What do you want, Kronos?" Methos asked. "Really?"

The grin widened. "Your head."

"You'll have to be a bit more specific, I'm afraid."

"Well, it's really up to you."

Methos lifted his eyebrows. "In that case..." He set down his beer and in the next moment had his sword readily in hand.

Duncan appeared more amused than surprised. "If that's the way you want it," he said, grabbing his katana from the umbrella stand beside the door.

The ensuing fight was fast and almost even. However, Methos had the advantage of being familiar with both Duncan's and Kronos' combat styles, while Kronos was not at all used to the lightweight katana. Eventually, Methos was able to send it flying from Duncan's hands with a well-placed blow.

Unarmed and defenseless, Duncan found himself against a wall with Methos' sword at his throat. "Methos, what—?"

Methos frowned, tempted to lower his weapon, but not entirely convinced. "MacLeod?"

"What's going on? Get that thing away from me!"

Methos allowed his blade to be slapped aside only to then be pinned on his back under the Scot's muscular bulk.

"You always were soft at heart, weren't you, Methos?"

"You weren't always so macho, either," Methos sneered. "I can remember a time when you were afraid of the dark."

The amusement left Duncan's face, replaced with a scowl. "You should learn to respect your betters." But the tone was less certain.

"I'm better than you in the categories that count," said Methos.

"Really, Brother? What makes you say that?"

" _Experto crede_."

Duncan leaned in close to whisper harshly in Methos' ear. "Oh, I do. You taught me, remember? Everything. Even how to be macho."

Methos grew still, then limp. He was certain now that Kronos wouldn't kill him. This time. Kronos' reverence for their bond married to Duncan's overblown sense of chivalry meant he was safe. For now.

"Have I exhausted you already? We've barely started," Duncan taunted, but the voice was soft, baiting.

"I'm too old for this."

"Oh, I don't think so." Duncan stroked Methos' hair almost absently, as though out of habit.

"You didn't really come back just for this," said Methos.

"This is just one of many reasons."

"I'm flattered, but I'd rather not." Methos moved to push the Scot off of him.

Duncan didn't budge. "Don't you want things to be like they were when we were Four?"

"There's no point," Methos told him. "The world has moved on, Kronos. You're dead. _All_ of you are dead."

"Physically, Brother. You have to learn to look beyond that. You could get used to me in this body, couldn't you?" The grin grew wide again. "I know I could get used to wearing it."

"MacLeod is a friend. You have no right to use him this way."

"I'll use him any way I like!" Duncan roared. "And you, too!"

Methos used the moment to successfully shove free of the Highlander.

Duncan stood then reached down as though to help Methos up. The elder Immortal hesitated before accepting the offered hand. Duncan pulled him to his feet then close. "Look what I caught."

"How much does it mean to you?" Methos asked suddenly.

Confusion and suspicion crept across Duncan's features. "What do you mean?"

"Did you really love me?"

Duncan appeared startled by the question. "What are you trying at, Methos?" Methos only stared at him, eyes narrowed, as if trying to read into him and discover something. "Don't look at me like that!" Unnerved, Duncan released him and turned away.

"Kronos, look at me."

"Kronos, look at me," Duncan mimicked, but he turned around to face his fellow Horseman. "What do you want to hear? That you were my father, my brother, my family? There, I said it. Does it make you happy?" When Methos only continued to stare, Duncan asked, "Why did you leave us?"

It was Methos' turn to look surprised. "What?"

"I woke up one morning and you were gone. The one person I trusted—God knows I never trusted Caspian or Silas—the one person who meant anything to me was gone."

"There comes a time in every student's career when he has to separate from his master, and ours was way overdue," Methos told him.

"Is that all I was to you? A student?"

Methos shook his head.

"Then why did you leave?"

"Because I couldn't live like that anymore!"

"I would have gone with you! I would have changed..."

"No, Kronos, you wouldn't have. You never did or will or—" Methos threw up his hands in frustration. "Look at you now, same as always, still pining for the glory days!"

"You never gave me anything else! I could have learned, Methos, learned from you, changed with you."

"Here's your chance then."

Duncan frowned. "How do you mean?"

"Do the right thing. Give MacLeod his body back."

The Highlander grew dangerously still. "You would choose him over me?"

"That's not the issue!" Methos insisted. "It's a question of right and wrong, of honor, of I don't know what, but..." He sighed. "We each get one chance, Kronos. You had yours. Give MacLeod his."

"You love him."

"Not in the way you mean, but yes."

Duncan nodded slowly. "He cares for you, too... One night," he said. "I want this night, Methos. And then I'll go."

"I have your word?"

A familiar glint entered Duncan's eye. "For what it's worth."

"Then I hope to God you really have changed."

"Not completely. What do you say to a little sword play?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Experto crede_ \- trust in one who has had experience


	5. Chapter 5

Duncan MacLeod awoke in an unfamiliar bed. One a more complete opening of his eyes, he found the bed also held another occupant. Methos slept soundly, his back to the Highlander and a sheet tangled around him.

Sitting up and startled to find himself in a state of undress, Duncan reached over to shake his friend awake. "Methos, what—?"

"Never mind it, MacLeod," Methos mumbled.

"Never mind it?! What—"

"I convinced Kronos to leave you alone. We'll see how long it lasts." The voice was muffled.

"Must have been some convincing," said Duncan, glancing at the clothes and weapons strewn around the apartment.

"If you wake up in a strange place from time to time after suffering a blackout... Let's just say I wouldn't be surprised."

"You mean I should expect to wake up in bed with you every now and then?" Duncan asked.

"Just don't tell Joe; he'll be jealous."

END


End file.
